


Reasons Outtake 2 (Hux)

by mssdare



Series: Reasons [3]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Felching, Future, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Injury Recovery, Kylo Ren Needs a Hug, M/M, Masturbation, Medication, Military, Outtakes, POV Hux, Past Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, References to Depression, Rimming, Sequel, Sex Toys, problems with sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2019-03-08 17:19:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13462896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mssdare/pseuds/mssdare
Summary: Ben was injured during his latest deployment. Hux is there for him to pick up the pieces.(Final outtake for "Reasons")





	Reasons Outtake 2 (Hux)

**Author's Note:**

> This is the final part for the "Reasons" series. You can read this as a stand-alone and it will still make sense, but if you want ALL the feels, it's better to read the main story and "Outtake 1" first.
> 
> Many thanks to Sillygoose, who is my best beta and has been on this journey with me for years now.

**HUX**

 

#SATURDAY

Hux sighed and placed a pair of neatly rolled-up socks on top of folded olive green T-shirts in the laundry basket. He picked up his detergent and fabric softener and took the whole basket with him back upstairs to distribute the clothes to their respective drawers. It had only been two weeks since Ben’s return, but already their things were mixed together, just like they’d always been before.

Hux wished that he and Ben could stay suspended in time—forever in that little moment that always happened right after Ben’s returns—with their arms wrapped tightly around each other, breathing in each other’s scent, feeling the warmth of each other’s bodies, their hearts slamming hard, breath ragged and eyes wet. That moment was always pure; the high of it was like nothing else in the world.

But the dull ache of reality always crept in on them sooner rather than later, and as the years went by, with Ben absent more often than not while in training or deployed, Hux found it harder and harder to gather the loosened threads of their relationship and relearn how to _be_ next to each other once their life together picked up again. Usually there wasn’t even time to get reacquainted—Ben would be gone within mere weeks, taking his big T-shirts and large socks and his huge presence with him.

Now, however, Ben had fifty-four days of medical leave ahead of him, or perhaps he'd even need to retire, and Hux—Hux had to adjust.

He knelt on the floor next to the lowest drawer and transferred the boxer briefs and socks to the little containers that separated one from the other by a strip of fabric. It struck him that this was a perfect metaphor for his and Ben’s life now—neat, ordered, close together but compartmentalized, not quite apart but insurmountably separated by a barrier a tad too thick to cross.

Hux placed the empty basket behind the bedroom door and went to the kitchen to make some coffee. It was nearing noon, and Ben had already been out for hours, off for his morning run and then straight to his PT training at the local gym, to get his body into pre-accident shape. Then maybe he’d be back, or maybe he’d just wander around and come back later in the evening, silent and eerily calm. Meanwhile Hux would sit in the kitchen, pressing his mug of hot black coffee to his chest to warm up the clenched sensation in it, and cursing everything—the Army, the government, his father for making him join it, and mostly _himself_ , for ever meeting Ben and putting him on this path to gradual but efficient self-destruction.

The medicine bottles lined up on the counter made Hux’s heart constrict each time he went into the kitchen. The orange bottles were neatly labeled and placed in an orderly row. Hux picked each of them up, reading about the active ingredients and dosages—Oxy for the pain, the antidepressants, Klonopin for anxiety, the sleeping pills. Hux knew it all by heart now. As usual, he had to quench the impulse to take one of the pills and swallow it himself.

“You shouldn't go back to active duty while on these,” he’d told Ben when he saw the meds for the first time, pointing to the bottles. They were not talking about how Ben wasn't going back to active duty, period. “There will be a day when you’ll miss a dose, and you’ll start to hallucinate in the middle of a patrol. Trust me. I’ve tried them all.”

“You don’t think I know this?” Ben had replied, only a little angry. “I’ve got sixty-seven more days to clear it from my system.” He hadn’t sounded too hopeful, though.

Hux sat at the kitchen table that doubled as his desk, trying not to glance toward the medication, and took the first sheet from a stack of student papers he had to grade for his Monday class. There was a lab lesson to prepare too, so the weekend was going to be busy, but Hux wasn’t going to complain. He had everything that he’d always wanted and fought for—a place in the MIT PhD program, his own class to teach, and independence from the Army at last. And he had Ben, during those scant weeks when Ben was on leave and living with Hux in Cambridge.

 

*

It was nearing five when Hux was finally done with the papers. He checked his iPhone for any messages but there were none from Ben. He pressed the tips of his fingers to the base of his nose, willing the impending headache to go away. Perhaps food would help. He rolled his arms to get the stiffness out of his back, opened the fridge to get ingredients for Ben’s favorite pasta dish, and got to work.

When Ben came back, heading straight for the shower, dinner was ready. Hux took it to the couch and put _Lock Up_ on Netflix for them to watch while eating. A few minutes later Ben came back in just his boxer briefs and plopped next to Hux on the couch. He smelled like Hux’s soap, and his hair was still dripping. Hux reached to brush the hair at Ben’s nape. He couldn’t deny that he was thrilled that it’d gotten so not-regulation long again. He was able to thread his fingers through the silky strands and watch the sun paint various shades of brown and almost black when Ben moved.

Ben piled a plate with steaming hot pasta. “This is so good,” Ben all but moaned around the food, and Hux smiled. God, was it good to see Ben enjoying something _, anything,_ at last.

Ben helped himself to Hux’s vitamin water and made a face. “What is this? Why is this salty?”

Hux shrugged. “Micronutrients?”

Ben took another swallow, still frowning. “Tastes like spunk.”

Hux laughed. “Oh, you’d know that, wouldn’t you?” But then he fell silent when Ben didn’t smile back.

They watched the documentary for a while longer while eating. Hux tried to decide if the silence between them was a comfortable one, like a third companion giving meaning to this non-existent conversation, or whether it was strained, loaded with all the concerns unsaid.

There were so many things that Hux didn’t know about Ben anymore, so many questions he wouldn’t even dare to ask, not wanting to cause Ben pain, or not wanting to not be able to understand. He’d never gone on a mission like Ben had done many times over; he’d never even actively _served,_ as the Army had allowed him the engineering route, and no matter how much he’d learned about it, nothing could replace first-hand experience. Ben had never given him the impression that he thought any less of him, or that he wanted Hux to understand more, but still, the chasm was there between them, now more than ever, after Ben’s injury while on a routine patrol gone wrong. Ben had not talked about it at all, nothing more than that there had been an unexpected and somehow "stupid" explosion and that a piece of metal from the container he’d ducked behind had gotten stuck in his body just below his ribs.

Somewhat involuntarily, Hux reached out to Ben and placed his hand on Ben’s skin, just above the recently healed wound, perhaps wanting to reassure himself that Ben was in fact mostly intact and very much alive next to him. When Ben didn’t flinch, just stayed there, slightly hunched over his knees, breathing evenly, warm and calm underneath Hux’s touch, he leaned over and kissed Ben’s shoulder. He touched the still shiny and pink ragged scar that went through Ben’s torso, sliding his fingertips lightly over the too-sensitive tissue, and kissed a line up his spine, open-mouthed and a bit moist, until he got to Ben’s neck. He pushed Ben’s still slightly damp hair out of the way to lick Ben there.

“Could we?” he asked. He was going crazy. Having Ben around, even as subdued and off as Ben had been, made Hux crave Ben _all the time, every single minute_ —when Ben was exercising or doing menial house chores like washing the dishes, but especially like this, when he was half-naked, warm and pliant under Hux’s touch.

Ben sighed and turned to face Hux. He looked so sad that Hux instantly regretted the question. He thought that they both might cry.

“I’m sorry,” Ben said, and reached to cup Hux’s cheek with his hand. His palm was big and dry, gently scratching Hux’s evening stubble. “I wish we could, but I’m… I won’t get it up on all of these meds.” He gestured toward the kitchen.

Hux knew what Ben meant; the heavy cocktail of various substances circulating in his body was responsible for a lot of changes.

“I could blow you, though?” Ben said, but Hux suspected that Ben wouldn’t really enjoy it so he shook his head.

He knew that he shouldn’t feel rejected, that it wasn’t Ben fault, that it most probably gnawed at Ben much more than at him, but he couldn’t stop the cold feeling seeping into his bones.

Ben was silent, still caressing Hux’s cheek, now starting to tremble a bit, and Hux knew he had to do something about it—propose something that would break this tension, prevent them from falling into a limbo of mutual aversion born out of guilt. He desperately searched for a solution—perhaps something that Ben had once tried on Hux when it had been him who’d not felt like doing anything. He covered Ben’s hand with his own and squeezed his fingers in what he hoped felt like encouragement.

“Would you be okay with watching me? Maybe?” he asked.

Ben’s eyes widened—whether out of surprise or desire, it was hard to tell.

“Would you like that?” Hux repeated.

“Okay.” There was still reluctance in Ben’s voice but he sounded curious too, so Hux decided to cling to whatever he could.

He went to grab his bag of toys from the nightstand drawer in the bedroom. Ben had always teased him about this small “collection,” but he couldn’t judge. Hux needed something for the long months when Ben was deployed. He now chose a moderate-sized silicone dildo and lube before walking back to the couch.

“So you want me to, what, just stay here and watch you fuck yourself on this thing?” Ben asked. There wasn’t any anger or disappointment in his voice, so Hux smiled.

“That’s the idea, yes.”

Ben finally looked interested. He settled on his side of the couch, half-turned toward Hux with one foot on the cushions. “Fuck yeah,” he said, grinning. “Do it.”

It was good to see him like that. Ben had always been _intense_ , but that meant that when he was happy he was almost glowing, emitting warmth like Hux’s personal emotional space heater. Ben’s smile was also endearing, and seeing his ridiculous, uneven teeth made Hux love Ben even more, with all his peculiarities and imperfections.

Hux took off his T-shirt and shoved his underwear away. He should maybe feel a bit self-conscious, awkward about spreading himself like that in front of Ben, with his cock already hard and chest red from the blush of desire Ben had always stirred in him like no one else. He squeezed a bit of lube onto his fingers and first rubbed some of it on his ass-crack, then around his hole. He’d never liked teasing or foreplay much, and one of the things he especially loved about sex with Ben was that Ben seemed to always get what Hux wanted immediately, and got to the point without unnecessary, annoying preambles.

Hux squeezed a little bit more lube on the top of the silicone cock and pressed it to his hole without further preparations. He knew he could take it—Ben’s dick was much thicker and longer, and Hux had taken it without any preparation whatsoever on many occasions before. He dug his heels into the cushions and pushed the dildo in, then exhaled, clenching around the smooth silicone.

Ben’s eyes looked like two glowing black crystals in the light of the TV screen—darkened and wide. His lips were parted and Hux licked his in response. He spread his legs wider to give Ben a better view, but then it became slightly uncomfortable with the back of the couch not allowing him to spread fully, so he rolled on his stomach, perched his ass in the air, and planted his face in the couch’s pillows. He rarely fucked himself in this position when was playing alone; usually it was reserved for the times when Ben was home, plowing Hux’s ass as if there was no tomorrow. And perhaps there truly wasn’t. No one could guarantee Ben would return from conflict zones alive or in one piece.

Hux slid the dildo in and out, angling it so it could hit his prostate on almost each pass. It hurt—it always did a little when he was doing it himself, a bit too harsh and too fast. But this was also how he preferred it: hard, making his eyes tear up. With his other hand he reached for his cock and, to not lose his balance, he pushed his face further into the couch. It was all right. It would muffle the sounds he was making. Although perhaps Ben would like those.

He felt a finger circling his rim around where the dildo disappeared inside his body. He sighed. _Yes._

“Yes,” he moaned louder into the cushion, sounding so wanton that he rolled his eyes at himself.

Ben pushed Hux’s hand away and slowly tugged on the dildo, thrusting it in and out a few times before he pulled it out completely.

“Ben,” Hux whined in protest, but it died in his throat when Ben gripped Hux’s hips tight. Hux looked back. Ben pushed his boxer briefs down with one hand and lined up his rock-hard cock with Hux’s hole where the dildo had left him gaping and empty. Ben pushed in with one hard thrust.

“Oh fuck. Ben. God.” It really didn’t matter that Hux sounded like a lunatic. “So good. S’good.” He canted his hips with each thrust, forgetting to keep his hand on his own cock to come along with Ben who was already done, shuddering in his release, gripping Hux tight.

It was okay, though. It didn’t matter how Hux felt or if he came or not. This was about Ben, and Ben got to come—it was all that mattered. This and Ben’s comfort. Hux was only now realizing that perhaps this sudden physical activity could have inflamed Ben’s injury. Perhaps he should get Ben some Oxy and water.

“I’m sorry,” Ben said, already softening, pulling out, most probably disappointed with himself, angry and ashamed. “Jesus, I thought that it was supposed to be the other way around, with those meds. That I’d go on for hours and never get to nut, but… I’m sorry.”

Hux wanted to jerk himself off to take the edge away, but Ben sounded distraught, and so Hux wasn’t sure how Ben would feel about it. He wasn’t sure if he should bring up his concern about the injury now either. His mind ran over the possibilities, trying hard not to make a wrong move.

“You made a mess,” Hux finally said, as coldly as he could. _He must have lost his mind. What was he doing?_ “Clean me up.”

He waited and waited, dread overcoming him as Ben stayed immobile behind him. He was going to laugh it off, apologize, try the sweet, placating approach after all, when Ben pulled his ass-cheeks apart and blew some air on Hux’s fucked hole. He traced the rim with his finger, where the lube had mixed with Ben’s seed and seeped out a little. Then, Ben leaned closer and _lapped_. He licked Hux’s hole again and again, with long, hot slurps, and all Hux could do was to force himself to stay put, to not writhe, to not move an inch that would cause this sensation to stop even for a fraction of a moment.

There was no self-consciousness in Hux anymore, even though he wasn’t quite sure that his ass tasted good. In fact, the mix of lube and sperm must have been vile. But Ben didn’t seem to mind. He jabbed his tongue inside Hux’s hole and spread his ass-cheeks more, wider, gripping his flesh so hard that it hurt.

How Hux wished he could come like this—just on Ben’s tongue, untouched—but it had never been possible for him to come just from anal stimulation, so he gripped his cock and stroked it roughly a few times. He could feel Ben’s thumb tracing his rim, pushing inside alongside Ben’s tongue. And Hux saw white.

 

*

The bedroom was never dark. For some reason Hux abhorred the darkness when he was alone, and he’d installed an energy saving LED light behind the bedside table—dull enough that it didn’t shine through closed eyelids too much, but allowing him to see whenever he woke up in the middle of the night, grabbing for his phone, searching for messages he dreaded, even though he knew that no one would notify him first, and certainly not by text.

Now, he was even more grateful for the light. In the dim glow he could make out Ben’s hunched form sitting on the floor beside the bed, with his back pressed to the wall and hands folded on his knees.

“Ben?” Hux asked, perching himself on one elbow. When there was no reply, not even a hint of movement, he pulled himself up some more. There was something uncanny about Ben, something that sent a chill of terror down Hux’s spine. He lowered his legs slowly down the bed and slid to the floor.

“Ben?” he asked again, not expecting an answer. Ben was staring straight ahead, and he didn’t react when Hux crouched slowly in his direction. He didn’t flinch when Hux extended his hand tentatively and put it on Ben’s outstretched leg. “Ben, baby, are you… what’s wrong?”

He’d never used that endearment before, and if it were any other situation he was sure that Ben would laugh at him and tease him mercilessly for it. As it was, Ben still didn’t respond. Hux swallowed and moved his hand up to place it on Ben’s palm. It was cold.

Hux remembered his irrational fear that he’d find his mother dead like this—cold, with bluish hands and lips—when in reality she’s passed quietly in hospice. But for years after her diagnosis he’d carried that dread within him, always waiting for doom to happen. So now, seeing Ben like this for a split second made his heart almost stop from dread. But then Ben’s fingers finally twitched under Hux’s grasp and Ben turned his head slightly and blinked.

“I’m sorry, what?” he said.

“Come to bed.” Hux tugged gently on Ben’s hand, prepared for resistance and even more worried when he encountered none. Ben allowed Hux to lead him back under blankets, and Hux curled next to him, wrapping his arms around him. “What happened? Why can’t you sleep?”

“My chest hurts.” Ben rubbed his sternum in small, agitated circles. It was a gesture Hux hadn’t seen since they had been teenagers. “I tried to just… _meditate_ , or something, to get my breath back. But it’s not that simple.”

Hux placed his hand over Ben’s heart, wishing he could send healing energy this way. “How can I help?” he asked.

Ben was silent for a long while again, just breathing, his chest rising and falling underneath Hux’s hand. “Tell me about your PhD,” he finally said. “You never tell me.”

“That’s because we have like fifteen minutes to talk when you’re in range and I don’t want to waste it going on about my meaningless work.”

“That’s not true,” Ben said.

“What?” It was true. All Hux had ever wanted was to listen to Ben’s voice, and Ben telling him that he was alive and well, while Hux did his best to keep his composure and break down crying only after he’d hung up.

“You know your work isn’t meaningless.”

Hux had doubts, especially after all the hours spent checking his students’ uninspired papers this morning. “Isn’t it, though? Compared to what you do?”

Ben tensed again. “I messed up. I should have done my job better. If I had been where I should have been, Private Thanisson wouldn't have lost his leg. How does that make my job more _meaningful_ than yours?”

Hux had nothing to say to that. He squeezed Ben harder and tried not to focus on his own emotions—on how he’d felt when he’d learned about Ben’s accident. How he was glad that it has been someone else and not Ben to be badly hurt.

“Okay. So you’ll laugh, but I’m actually working on an engine that’s very much like our old project in high school.” It still amazed Hux that their teenage ideas had been really illuminating to his later work. He talked about his lectures and the millennial students thinking they could get away with everything by trying to be alternately endearing and offended, and by the time he got around to describing his most interesting lab class, Ben’s body had relaxed.

“Are you asleep?” he asked, even though he could tell by Ben’s still somewhat uneven breathing that he was not.

“Mmm?” Ben hummed.

As long as they were not sleeping, both still too distressed to even try, Hux might as well broach the topic that had been making his stomach twist in knots for weeks now. “I need to talk to you about something.”

“Uh-huh?” Ben said, aiming for sounding light, but Hux could feel his body tense even more next to him, awaiting a blow.

 _Fuck, I’m shit at this,_ he thought. He was supposed to be helping Ben calm down, not making him even more anxious. He’d always been bad at expressing anything that would require emotional skills, and he’d always been so self-centered in everything that he’d done.

“It’s that we have this relationship and you are gone for months…” Ben inhaled sharply and made a move to get up from the bed, so Hux grabbed his hand and pulled him back to him. Ben’s palm was finally warmer, and Hux didn’t want to ever let go of it. “What I mean,” he rushed to say, terrified that Ben might flee, “is that I might not say it enough, but I love you, and—“

“You never say it.” Ben’s voice was strangled.

“What? Sure I do.”

Ben turned to face him. In the semi-darkness of the room his eyes were glistening with something—tears maybe. “Name one time you did.”

Hux tried to think of a good example, but nothing came to mind. Could he really not have said it _ever_?

He squeezed Ben’s palm harder. “The thing is, that the doctors wouldn’t tell me anything. When you—you know. Not my rank, not our history, not our acquaintances—nothing was enough for them. I had to get every piece of information from Leia. And I don’t think I could handle that again.”

“No.” Ben made a move to pull back but Hux didn’t let go. “You know I need to go back. One more tour, at least. I just need to get back into shape.”

“Okay, I know, but even if you don’t go back—“

Ben pulled away abruptly. “And do what then? I’ve got no skills, Hux. There’s nothing I _can_ do outside the military. My squad needs me and I just have to be fixed because there is _nothing_ for me here."

“That’s not true. You could always fly!” They hadn’t had this conversation yet; Hux had always skated around the subject of Ben being possibly unfit for service, but it didn’t mean Hux hadn’t given it enough thought. He knew Ben was not going back. He’d run his mind over many scenarios and possibilities for Ben.

“I don’t want to be a fucking taxi driver for stupid civilians!” Ben was shouting now. “And all I can fly is rotorwings, and I'd have to start everything from the very beginning if I wanted to fly fixed wings. And I just don't have patience for this.”

“Again, not true.” Hux was calm, trying to reason with Ben, but he could see that Ben was too agitated to react positively to logic. Perhaps he could try a different approach. “I have this dream,” he said instead, watching Ben’s chest rise and fall in heavy breathing.

“What,” Ben snapped, more a dismissal than a question.

“I have this dream of you being here, with me, indefinitely. Even if you had to go out on a flight or be gone for a few days it wouldn’t be _months_. And you know we both have enough money to get you through getting a license if you’d like to pilot jets and not just helicopters.”

“That would take _years_!” Ben shouted that, but he at least seemed interested.

Hux shrugged. “We could afford it if we stick to a budget.” Perhaps Ben’s training would be faster given his aviation experience, but they were in no hurry. 

Ben settled back on the bed. Hux could almost hear Ben’s mind buzzing, thoughts racing over possibilities that he hadn’t allowed himself to think of before.

“You’d really be willing to support me for however long it’d take before I get back on my feet?” He sounded more bewildered and hopeful than angry now.

“Of course I would,” Hux said, not going into the discussion of Ben getting the money from the Army anyway if he was given "Disability." “If that meant having you back for good? I’d do _anything_.” He winced at how sappy it sounded, but they were here alone together, blanketed by the night. If not now, then when could he allow himself to be sentimental? “But I will endure you being gone for one more tour. I will do my best to help you get better now, so you can be ready and well. But I need to have some legal claim over you if you’re going. An official partnership.”

Ben moved closer again. His breath was warm on Hux’s lips. He was close and solid.

“Hux.” Ben’s voice was deep, sounding both amused and filled with emotion. “Are you proposing?”

Hux shook his head. “I’m telling you we need a marriage certificate so I can get official information about you.”

Ben chuckled. “So you _are_ proposing.” His eyes lost the haunted look that made Hux want to howl.

Hux finally smiled too and shrugged. He might as well admit to himself what it was. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

“Yes,” Ben said.

His kiss was soft and warm on Hux’s lips. It felt like a promise and a vow itself. Because no matter what they did, how far apart they grew, how difficult it was to weave their lives together after every separation, there was future for them, here or somewhere else, and this invisible force pulling them together, always.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to everyone who cheered me on with this story. It's been a long ride for me (I'm a slow writer) and I'm anxious to let those boys go.
> 
> Earlier this week I saw this: http://www.newsweek.com/west-point-marries-first-active-duty-same-sex-couple-786257  
> I guess it matches this story perfectly. What times we live in! <3


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